Merry December
by Sherlocked95
Summary: Christmas gift fic for Meriah and Allyson. Stiles is determined to infect Derek with the festive spirit; if only so Christmas is one less thing for Derek to feel guilty about.


**This is a Christmas gift fic for Meriah (a-hi-functioning-sociopath) and Allyson (siriuslyuptonogood). Their friendships mean a lot to me and they're really amazing people. Merry Christmas, guys 3**

* * *

**December 1st**

"Merry Christmas!"

Scott grinned, sharing in his enthusiasm. Most of the others just ignored him. But Derek? For once Derek _didn't_ have that look on his face that he usually wore whenever Stiles spoke; his _I'm pretending I'm anywhere but here having to listen to you_ look. He did look considerably unimpressed, though.

"It's the first of December," he pointed out.

"Exactly. _Christmas_." Stiles replied. "A thrill in the air. Candy canes. Cheesy movies. Fancy lights decorating town. You know, _Christmas_."

"_Christmas_ isn't for another three weeks."

"Fine then. Merry first of fucking December." Complete with a sarcastic thumbs up and Stiles' best _screw you _tone.

Derek met his gaze and that? Yep, that was definitely his best _you're such a brat_ look. It was almost comforting in its familiarity. Stiles held his gaze with a supercilious expression.

"Are we gonna listen to you two argue again?" Danny interrupted the stare down.

Danny wasn't an idiot; he'd noticed the weird things happening in Beacon Hills. He also noticed that most of the weird things involved a particular group of his friends and classmates. He figured something was going on and basically interfered as much as possible until Scott finally ran out of patience and told him the truth.

Things weren't great for a while. But somehow over the months, Danny became a part of the pack. Having someone like Danny, a genius with computers and a pro hacker, was actually pretty beneficial for the pack. As beneficial as having Stiles' dad in the loop; having the town's Sheriff in the know and on their side had definitely helped a lot. Not many people wanted to fuck with them when they had the law to deal with as a result.

Derek came back only four months after he left – sans Cora. She'd found her place in the same pack in New York that Derek had sought out with Laura. But Derek didn't find that feeling of belonging and he actually came back. Things were tense there for a while too, but Derek eventually accepted Scott as his Alpha, Scott proved to be as good an Alpha as he is a friend and the both of them got over the stuff that had happened in the past.

And what was seriously weird? Derek actually lightened up. Just a little. Stiles didn't know if it was having family out there, or having a very real place in the pack and belonging, or just the lack of nasty stuff in Beacon Hills since the pack became pretty strong. Whatever it was, he was less of a dick. In some cases, he was even pleasant.

Now was not one of those cases. He had the look of suffering that Stiles was familiar with from the days of chasing down kanimas and fending off Alphas together. Stiles wondered what he'd done to put that expression on his face. Seriously, simply being excited about Christmas couldn't justify Derek's pissed off look. Not even Derek Hale was that sensitive or bad tempered.

But then –

Oh.

Right.

It wasn't that hard to figure it out. Derek only had two remaining members of his family out there, but Cora was in New York with her brand new pack and creepy Uncle Peter wasn't the kind of guy you'd want to sit around and chow down on turkey with.

Although the image of Derek and Peter sat in silence wearing paper crowns did make Stiles want to crack up laughing; he bit his tongue against the urge.

He wondered what Derek's Christmases were like before the fire. He'd always implied at having a large pack, a large _family_, so he imaged them to be busy but cosy - _nice_. Maybe even with silly but fun traditions. The kind of big family Christmas you see on TV. Kind of like _Home Alone_, just without the whole accidentally being abandoned and having to fend for himself and fight off bad guys thing.

Although, that was actually pretty close to Derek's real situation.

He pushed those thoughts away; he didn't want to think about what it was like for Derek to have had that and then lose it all. He didn't want to wonder if the festive holiday always reminded him of the family he lost, of the fact that, when it came down to it, he was alone.

Still, it must suck. To see _Christmas_ everywhere throughout December and be reminded of painful things. Everyone should enjoy Christmas, to experience the thrill of the month leading up to it and love the festivity. Everyone deserved that excitement and happiness.

Even Derek Hale.

And Stiles, being Stiles, took it upon himself in that moment to persuade Derek to look forward to Christmas and enjoy it.

(He maintained that it had nothing to do with the fact that every time he saw Derek, he was struck with the urge to just grab him and kiss him. Nothing at all.)

**December 3rd**

"Merry third of December!"

Lydia gave him a narrow look and didn't deign to answer, just swept past him into his house. A small smile appeared on Scott's face, however, as he stepped inside.

"Is that gonna be a thing now?"

"Yep," Stiles popped the 'p'. "Blame Sourwolf. Hey," he paused as a sudden thought struck him. "If I tried to put a Santa hat on him, do you think he'd bite my hand off?"

"Yes."

The answer came from Derek as he jogged up the porch steps. Scott looked surprised to see him and tried to meet Stiles' gaze for a bro telepathy moment but Stiles avoided it, instead greeting Derek with a quick smile and holding the door wider for him to enter the house.

Scott shook his head in resignation to whatever game Stiles was playing as he shut the door.

"Whatever," Stiles responded to Derek. "I'm totally getting you to wear a Santa hat. Or maybe reindeer antlers." The image of Derek, wolfed out with a pissed off expression and all, wearing reindeer antlers made him snort with laughter.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Stiles was laughing at and Derek grumbled, "Shut up."

Stiles simply shrugged and said, "Come on, Grump."

They headed into the main room. Derek's gaze swept over the boxes recklessly strewn in any available free space in the room and his mouth pinched in obvious suspicion before he looked between the other three people in the room.

"Where are the others?"

Lydia and Scott shared a look before the former's eyebrows rose. "Others?" she repeated. "Why would we need the whole pack just to put up decorations?"

"Decorations -," Derek pinned Stiles with an irritated look. "You said this was a meeting."

"Only way to get you to agree to come over. I need help."

Lydia gave him a look that told him she was on to him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and kept a blasé expression. Still, it was only a half-lie. He _did _need help.

The Sheriff usually gave Stiles free reign with decorations – a decision he tended to regret every year. He didn't have the patience for it. He liked Christmas; he just didn't like preparing for it. So it was left up to Stiles and he didn't like to do it alone.

It had been a tradition for years for Scott to come over and help him. He first did it the Christmas after Stiles' mom died. He knew Stiles would be doing it alone; his dad wasn't really in a great state to be fussing with decorations. It was Stiles' first Christmas without his mom and it'd been tradition for them to do it together, mother and son. He'd been dreading it and planned to leave it until the last minute or not do it altogether. Just the idea of it had been too painful.

But on the third of December, the same day he'd always put up the decorations, there was a ring on the doorbell and Stiles opened it to find Scott and Mrs McCall. Scott wordlessly smiled and pushed past him into the house and his mom pressed a comforting hand briefly to his shoulder before heading up to the attic to get the decorations. They spent the afternoon putting up the decorations and not once did Scott mention his mom, nor did he try to make it like it was when she was there; he was simply there for him and he knew exactly what Stiles needed. It was perfect. Stiles hugged him tightly before he left, muttered a thank you into his ear, and that was that; ever since, Scott came over every year to help and after a while, Stiles started going over to his the day after to help Scott and his mom put up their decorations. It was routine.

This year, Lydia had overheard Scott telling Stiles he'd be there like always and invited herself, insisting that there was no way she was letting them decorate the tree alone; it'd end up tacky and overcrowded. They needed someone with some actual idea of what looked good to help them out.

"What makes you think I don't know what looks good?" Stiles had asked.

"Your outfit," was her response.

Which, ouch. But it was nice to have someone else there too. Lydia had become one of his closest friends, so her involvement was good. Besides, she was kind of right; she had great taste and she'd help make the decorations look nice. He'd been looking forward to it.

So he _did _need people to help...just not _specifically_ Derek. Not that the sourwolf needed to know that.

"What are Scott and Lydia for?" Derek asked and, yep, he was definitely trying to call Stiles out on his bullshit.

"You're tall," he shrugged. "The tree's huge, dude. We need someone to put the star on top."

"You couldn't use a stepladder?"

"Huh," Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I didn't think of that."

Derek gave him a narrow eyed look that told Stiles he was totally on to him and he shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his expression neutral. He was certain Derek was just going to walk out any minute. Only a few months ago, he would have done. But, to Stiles' and Scott's surprise, he simply shook his head and moved to open one of the boxes.

Stiles and Scott shared a shocked look but the former couldn't help but notice Lydia didn't share their surprise; she simply smiled slightly and opened up a box of miscellaneous decorations that Stiles never used but still kept out of sheer laziness to throw them out.

"This is literally the ugliest thing I've ever seen," she remarked, holding up a homemade wreath made out of pinecones, ribbon and glitter.

"Hey!" Stiles defended. "I made that in first grade."

"You always were terrible at art."

He mimed pulling a dagger out of his heart and smiled when she laughed in response. However, when she moved to put the wreath back in the box, he murmured, "My mom loved it."

Her gaze softened ever so slightly and she nodded once, wordlessly setting it aside to be put on the front door later.

Stiles set out some drinks and a plate of snowman shaped cookies that Meagan, the neighbours' little kid, had made and given a Tupperware box of to the Sheriff the evening prior.

It was fun; they talked, they laughed, they managed to break at least two sets of Christmas lights and knocked the tree over within minutes of finally succeeding in putting it together. Derek even put the star on top, though he maintained an unhappy expression as he did so – especially when Stiles snapped a photo on his phone to show the rest of the pack.

He didn't join in their banter or laughter and looked upon their group cheer once they'd finished putting everything up with an unimpressed expression. He left before Scott and Lydia with barely a goodbye.

Still. He'd actually helped them and he'd eaten three of the cookies (though that was probably more to do with Meagan and her mom's skill at baking than Stiles succeeding in infecting him with the Christmas spirit).

Stiles counted it as a win.

**December 7th**

"Okay, what are you doing?"

Stiles tore his attention away from the elementary school choir currently singing _We Wish You a Merry Christmas _at the top of their lungs and looked at Lydia. The lights in the centre of town were about to be turned on – by the Sheriff, no less, which made Stiles grin – and like every year, it was a good turn out, with at least quarter of the population of Beacon Hills in attendance, the elementary choir singing and hot chocolate and hotdogs being sold on a stand a few feet to their right.

Lydia took a sip from her polystyrene cup, a knowing look on her face. Despite it being early on in the month, it was already quite cold for Northern California and she was wrapped up in a burgundy coat with matching gloves, scarf and hat, her strawberry blonde hair windswept and a little color on her cheeks from the bite in the air.

"Don't be cute, Stiles. You're not exactly subtle, you know."

"Lies and slander. I'm a _pro_ at subtle. I'm just too subtle with it for you to notice."

"You tricked Derek into coming to your place to help us decorate. Yesterday, when you brought drinks to Scott's meeting, you made sure that Derek got the peppermint hot chocolate. The day before _that_, Derek was complaining to us that you keep sending him 'Merry December' texts every day – texts that I for one don't receive." She listed this with raised eyebrows. "And I'm willing to bet you invited him to this, didn't you?"

"What?" Stiles replied, feigning nonchalance. "I'm proud of my dad. I want everyone to see his big, shining moment."

"Right," Allison piped up from his left. "And the rest?"

"Derek's a total grump about Christmas. I'm just trying to get him pumped for it."

"How nice of you," Lydia remarked.

"I'm a regular bleeding heart."

She pursed her lips before continuing, "Jackson hates Christmas. Would you do the same for him?"

"Jackson's in England. Inviting him to my place to put up decorations would be kind of pointless, don't you think?"

"_Would you_?"

"Yes."

"Lie," Isaac told them at the same time Lydia succinctly called, "Bullshit."

"Fine," he surrendered. "I wouldn't do this for Jackson, okay? It's just...Derek doesn't have what we have. He's...well, he's kind of alone. I figure Christmas is a sad time for him. So I'm just trying to make it happy for him instead, give him nice memories, you know? That way, Christmas is one less thing for him to be guilty about."

The three of them were silent. Stiles looked between them, judging their reactions; Lydia and Allison looked a little softer and there was a hint of a smile on Allison's face. Isaac looked surprised and a little pleased.

"Stiles," Lydia said quietly. "I think you might be disappointed."

"No way," he shook his head. "I'm going to succeed. By the time I'm finished with him, Derek will practically be singing _Jingle Bells _at the top of his lungs."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

He met her gaze and there was a knowing look in her eyes. She knew about his feelings for Derek, no matter how hard he tried to pretend, even to himself, that they weren't there. He knew she wouldn't exactly go singing about it to the others, especially Derek himself, but still. It made him a little uncomfortable to know that someone knew about it.

He didn't comment on that. Instead he simply said, "That's not why I'm doing it."

She nodded and when the other two wandered off to buy more hot chocolate, she reached out to squeeze his hand, just once.

**December 10th**

"By the way," Stiles said conversationally as Isaac and Lydia argued over the remote in the other room. "We're stopping by to decorate your loft tomorrow."

Derek paused in the process of lifting his mug of coffee to his lips and pinned Stiles with a glare. "What." Not even a question, just a demand; typical Derek.

Scott was trying to encourage Derek to settle in more with the pack as a whole, hence his being invited to Danny's movie night while his parents were out of town. Only five of them were able to make it; Isaac, Lydia, Derek, Allison and himself. Derek had excused himself to make some coffee and Stiles had taken his opportunity to pounce with some semblance of privacy (it wasn't much, given Isaac's werewolf hearing and all).

"By the way," Stiles repeated slowly with an obnoxious smile. "We're stopping by to decorate your loft tomorrow."

"I heard what you said," Derek said through his teeth, clearly willing some deity to give him the patience to deal with the brat in front of him. "_Why_?"

"Because it's Christmas," Stiles responded, the _duh_ implied in his tone. "Oh, merry tenth of December, by the way."

"That's not as funny as you think it is."

"Screw you. I'm hilarious."

"I don't want to decorate my loft for Christmas."

"I know. Which is why I said we're coming over to decorate your loft rather than we're coming over to _help you_ decorate your loft."

"Actually, you said you were stopping by to decorate my loft."

Stiles paused, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Did – did you just...was that an attempt at _humor_?"

A hint of a smile graced Derek's lips. "Hopefully."

"Work on it. A lot."

The smile vanished before it could fully form. "No."

"You'd rather remain a humorless grump for the rest of your life?"

"No, I mean _no_, you're not decorating my loft."

"It'll be minimal," Stiles promised. "A small tree, nothing more. I swear."

Derek just looked confused now rather than angry or stubborn, which Stiles hoped was a good sign. "Why?"

Stiles' heart dropped slightly to see Derek actually confused that the pack would want to do that for him. But he didn't show pity because he knew the older man would hate it and go right back to being downright hostile towards him.

"Because it's Christmas, dude. Stop being such a Scrooge and embrace the Christmas spirit. Embrace it hard." He paused. "That sounded less like _A Christmas Carol _porn in my head."

Derek just looked vaguely horrified now.

"Embrace it," Stiles repeated, snagging Derek's mug of coffee while he thought he could get away with it and leaving the kitchen.

The next day, Isaac informed them as they approached Derek's loft that he wasn't at home. Stiles couldn't help but feel disappointed. He'd thought he was making progress.

But before they could leave again, Scott's phone alerted him to a text. He read it, surprise flashing across his face before a small grin took over and he held up the phone for Stiles to read the message.

**Just a small tree. Stiles promised.**

He grinned in triumph.

The loft door was unlocked so they let themselves in. It was only the three of them and Scott had donated the old, unused plastic Christmas tree that his mom had replaced years ago but never got round to actually throwing out, just abandoned in the attic. It was a small, sad looking thing but with some cheap tinsel, lights and a star on top, it looked a lot brighter.

Stiles reached into his backpack and pulled out the small, rectangular package inside. He'd convinced Cora to send him her Christmas present to Derek instead of simply sending it to her brother; she'd finally agreed to when he'd told her the reason. He was pretty sure it was a set of books, wrapped up in shiny red paper with a tag that simply read '**- From Cora xxx**'.

He placed it under the tree and followed the others out. He figured having a reminder of his family, a gesture from his sister, would help with the whole getting Derek pumped for Christmas thing.

He briefly considered approaching Peter for help, but quickly dismissed the idea. No way was he going near that shady fucker.

**December 15th**

The Christmas market was open. Stiles and his friends spent the morning browsing the stalls, gorging on candy and hot chocolate and buying gifts. He'd invited Derek without much luck. Still, he thought his plan was working; Derek was significantly less sour than he had been at the start of the month. He wasn't exactly openly _cheery_ about Christmas, but it was progress.

He'd cut down on the 'Merry December' texts just to avoid bugging Derek more than anything. But he'd been following his plan; giving Derek a Christmas card (he gave all of his friends one, but Derek still seemed surprised to get one. He didn't wolf out and tear it to shreds with his fangs though, so Stiles figured he was grateful), dragging Derek away from the loft to go for a walk followed by hot chocolate at the local coffee place and trying (though failing miserably) to convince him to visit the Santa's Grotto at the library.

Afterwards, he swung by Derek's loft instead of heading home. He knew Derek could probably hear him approaching but he still had to knock; he was willing to bet it was just because he knew it was _Stiles_ that Derek didn't immediately open the door.

When he did, he was dressed in sweatpants and a wife beater. Stiles spent a long moment trying not to stare at Derek's arms because _seriously_? It should be illegal to work out as much as Derek must do to maintain his physique. Stiles' mouth was dry because it was cold out.

Honest.

Then he frowned. "Dude, I know you're a werewolf and run hot or whatever. But you're gonna want to wrap up warm."

He turned to head back out to his Jeep.

"Why?"

He paused and turned back, raising his eyebrows. "We're going out."

Derek folded his arms. "We are?"

"I sent you a text."

"And I ignored it."

"Yeah, see, you should know by now that ignoring me never works. Come on."

He expected Derek to argue or just slam the door in his face. Instead, he sighed and gestured for Stiles to wait inside while he got dressed. He returned in jeans, a Henley, boots and his leather jacket and he grabbed his keys as he approached.

"My Jeep's warm," Stiles told him.

Derek raised his eyebrows. "My Camaro's not a piece of junk."

"Ouch. But seriously, we're taking my Jeep."

Derek didn't look happy about it but he waved Stiles out ahead of him all the same. They were only outside for five minutes for the walk from the building to the Jeep, but Stiles was grateful for the heat inside the vehicle; he was frozen. It was pretty damn cold out. Derek watched him, unimpressed, as he huddled, trying to warm up.

"Are we actually going somewhere?" he asked, complete with a sassy eyebrow wriggle. "Or are we going to sit in your Jeep all afternoon?"

Stiles grumbled under his breath about bad tempered werewolves but pulled out of the parking space. Their destination was only ten minutes away and Derek didn't try to initiate conversation.

After he parked, Stiles looked over at Derek with a smirk and said, "Happy fifteenth of December."

Derek closed his eyes tightly for a second, looking pained. Stiles laughed and jumped out of the Jeep, immediately shoving his hands into his pockets for added warmth. Derek joined him as he rounded the front of the Jeep.

They were close to the preserve, away from the centre of town and the residential areas. The closest place nearby was a diner and that was a half hour walk. Stiles didn't often come here but as the biggest hill in Beacon Hills, it was perfect. It wasn't _that_ big, but he figured it would work.

"What are we doing?"

Stiles' breath misted white in the cold air but he didn't answer, instead starting on the short climb up the hill. Derek walked next to him, bewildered but not questioning it and that was _definitely _progress. Stiles gave a mental fist pump in triumph.

At the top of the hill was the cheap plastic sled Stiles had bought the day prior and dropped off at the hill early that morning.

"Are you kidding me?" Derek's tone was incredulous.

"It's Christmas."

Derek gave him his patented _you're a fucking idiot_ look. "There's no snow."

True; it was freezing but dry out. The grass beneath their feet was clumped together with frost but that was the extent. No snow in sight. But still, like that was going to stop Stiles.

"It'll be fun," he coaxed.

"You've done this with Scott?"

"No. He said it was too dangerous."

Which, coming from a werewolf, probably should have been warning enough off the idea.

"I'm not doing this."

Stiles huffed. "Fine. Then you can sit back and watch me have all the fun, Sourwolf."

He took pride to see that Derek was close to smiling as he said, "You're such a kid."

"I'm almost eighteen," Stiles reminded him with a grin. "I just know how to have fun now and then. You should try it."

He positioned the sled at the top of the hill and climbed in, pulling his knees to his chest in order to fit in the tiny space and gripping the handles on either side tightly.

"You're gonna have to -," he started to say, but Derek had obviously worked that out because he gave the back of the sled a hard push with his foot, sending Stiles hurtling down the hill.

Within two seconds, he realized how stupid his idea was. Without snow there to make it a smooth glide, the sled bumped and flew over the hard, lumpy ground. It hurt his ass like hell every time it went over a bump or rock and he realized there was already a crack in the thin plastic that was going to split the whole thing in two.

Hold on for dear life and hope it made it to the bottom or jump now before things got worse?

In the end, the choice was taken from him; the whole thing overturned and he went flying, accidentally letting go. He hit the ground hard and rolled, following the bright orange sled, for a few feet; the sled made it to the bottom but Stiles managed to stop, face down in the grass and groaning in pain.

A foot nudges his ribs and he reluctantly rolled over. His vision was fuzzy for a second but when he focused, he saw Derek leaning over him, shoulders shaking with laughter.

He marvelled at how good it was to see Derek laugh before scowling.

"Stop laughing," he grumbled. "I could be in genuine pain here."

Derek didn't even try to hide his smug grin. "Are you?"

He huffed. "Yes."

Derek laughed again but held his hand out to help him up. "I think that's a no on the sledding."

"Fuck you," he muttered, wincing as Derek hauled him to his feet. "You shouldn't be so amused at my suffering."

"Where does it hurt?"

He pointed to his ribs – thankfully _not _the ones Derek had nudged with his foot – and probed at the back of his head. He figured he was just bruised at worst. Derek gave him a once over and agreed.

They returned to the Jeep. Derek offered to drive and Stiles just focused on getting warm as the older man drove.

"Why are you doing this?" Derek asked quietly.

Stiles side eyed him. "What?"

"This..." he looked frustrated. "Being nice."

Stiles snorted. "You'd rather I wasn't?"

"You've been trying to get me excited for Christmas. Why?"

"Because everyone should enjoy Christmas," he answered simply. "And it might be one less thing for you feel bad about."

Derek clearly understood what Stiles meant. His face blanked in surprise for a long moment before he looked at Stiles. His expression was unreadable but Stiles thought he looked almost...shy. And a little bit sad.

He never thought he'd be using the word _shy_ when thinking of _Derek Hale_.

"Stiles..."

He lifted his head from the seat, a nervous feeling settling in his gut. "What?"

"I...never mind."

He was tempted to press the matter, to find out exactly what Derek was going to say, but he figured nothing good would come of it and he'd rather remain ignorant than hear something bad. So he simply shrugged and huddled in on himself for warmth.

Still, when Derek parked outside his building and got out without even a 'goodbye', Stiles opened the door and shouted,

"Merry December, Sourwolf!"

He was ninety percent certain that Derek was laughing as he walked away.

**December 21st**

When he opened the door, he was surprised that Derek actually showed up.

He hadn't invited him under pretence of it being something else. He hadn't tried to dupe Derek or coax him. He'd simply sent him a text saying, **Movies at mine tonight at 7?**

Derek hadn't answered but Stiles had hoped that maybe, just maybe Derek might come anyway. And here he was.

"Hey," he blurted out, unable to hide his shock.

Derek just raised his eyebrows and Stiles stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter the house. He shut the door and followed Derek into the main room; he paused just over the threshold, looking around the room in obvious bewilderment. There was a stack of Christmas films on the table, a blanket on the sofa and a big bowl of sweet popcorn and a plate of gingerbread men waiting. He planned on making some hot chocolate too.

"The others?" Derek questioned.

"The -?" Stiles frowned, then realized. "Oh. Uh, this isn't a pack thing. I thought it could just be you and me."

Derek's mouth pinched slightly. "Oh."

Stiles was tempted to suggest they just cancel if he didn't want to stay, but he bit down on his tongue. He was doing this to persuade Derek to enjoy Christmas and get him in the festive spirit. Screw letting Derek intimidate him.

But then Derek shrugged and sat down on the sofa, immediately sprawling out to make himself at home. Stiles huffed in mock annoyance but disappeared into the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.

They sat together, watching cheesy Christmas movies, munching on popcorn and sipping hot chocolate. Stiles felt a thrill of triumph every time Derek laughed at a corny joke, smiled at a happy moment and leaned forward in anticipation. After a while, he threw the blanket over his lap for added warmth. He resisted the urge to tuck it over Derek too; that would make things way too intimate and he didn't want to get his feelings messed up in this.

After the third movie ended, Derek stretched and got to his feet. Stiles turned the TV off, put the empty bowl back on the table and stood to see Derek off. At the front door, however, he suddenly turned and Stiles stumbled slightly, caught off guard by how close they were.

"Stiles," Derek said quietly.

Stiles swallowed, staring back. "Derek."

Derek looked like he was about to move closer and Stiles held his breath, not about to say anything to stop that from happening. He didn't want his feelings to mess his progress up...but that didn't matter, not when Derek was stood so close, gazing at him like that.

But then Derek simply smiled slightly and said, "Thank you."

"I...yeah, no problem. All in the name of festive spirit." He made a show of looking at his watch, embarrassed. "Wow, would you look at the time?"

Derek cleared his throat and stepped back. "I'll see you Christmas Eve."

Scott had invited the pack to his for a pack party to swap presents since they'd all be spending Christmas with their families and guardians. Stiles had almost forgotten all about it.

"Yeah," Stiles offered a smile. "Bye."

He watched Derek go, more confused than ever.

**Christmas Eve**

Stiles officially considered his work over the month a total success.

Derek was actually _early _for the party. _Early_. And helped Scott and Stiles set out the drinks and snacks. He didn't have a scowl in place and he didn't make any snappy remarks. He was...pleasant.

The party was great; cheesy Christmas music, bad dancing, gorging on too much food, the whole ordeal. The pack swapped presents. Derek thanked everyone and actually looked really _happy_. He was enjoying the party and was almost cheerful.

Stiles had accomplished it: he'd persuaded Derek to like Christmas.

He mentally patted himself on the back, triumphant.

Derek's present to him was a box of assorted candy. He looked a little surprised when Stiles didn't offer a gift in return but didn't comment, instead moving on to exchange presents with Scott and Isaac.

Stiles found him in the kitchen alone later and held out a package wrapped in snowman patterned paper.

"Maybe don't open it until you're alone," he warned, patting Derek's elbow once. "Merry 24th of December, Derek."

Derek actually smiled, though he didn't say anything in return.

Stiles grabbed a can of Coke and headed back to join the others in a terrible, out of tune rendition of _Jingle Bells_.

Derek looked down at the gift in his hands. The swell of warmth in his chest was ridiculous, considering all the others had given him presents too, but he couldn't help it. Stiles hadn't been obnoxious recently. He'd been...great, actually.

He'd expected to spend Christmas in a shit mood and on his own. Stiles had appeared out of nowhere and somehow stopped that from happening.

And _for fuck's sake_, he was seventeen years old. He wasn't even legal yet. He was a _kid_. Derek shouldn't feel the way he does every time Stiles looked at him with that blinding grin and said, "Merry December". He shouldn't be fighting an urge to kiss Stiles, to fucking...he was a _kid_.

He swallowed and looked down at the present, thumbing the tag over to read it.

**Merry Christmas, Sourwolf! Love, Stiles**

His chest felt tight. _Love_. Normally he'd dismiss it as Stiles being his obnoxious, overly friendly self. But he'd noticed Stiles' gifts to Isaac, Danny and Allison weren't signed with 'love'.

And Stiles...he was so young. Too young for stuff like _love_. Too young for...

Fundamentally, he was too young for Derek.

His hands clenched tight around the present and he took a deep breath, calming himself. He could hear Stiles laughing in the other room and it made his gut twist.

He resigned himself to not opening the gift. He had to put a stop to all this before it went too far. Before _he _went too far.

Taking another calm breath, he grabbed a drink and left the kitchen.

**Christmas Day**

Christmas was spent like it always was; Stiles got up to make his dad coffee and breakfast. They hugged and wished each other a 'Merry Christmas' before they ate. They swapped presents; Stiles got his dad socks and a new wallet, John got him candy, some DVD's and a new video game.

They went over to the McCalls' to have Christmas dinner with them. Stiles and Scott exchanged presents, they gorged on food and played stupid Christmas games after. They got home late afternoon, stuffed themselves with chocolate and watched TV together.

Late in the evening, Stiles text Derek, **Merry Christmas, Derek**.

He knew Derek was spending the day with Isaac and his foster family. He wasn't expecting a response since none of his other 'Merry December' texts he sent almost every day had been answered. He figured Derek was just being a grump...he didn't realize that he was just waiting for the right message, because a few minutes later his phone buzzed with a message from Derek.

**Merry Christmas, Stiles**.

Stiles grinned, proud of his success.

**Boxing Day**

Derek wasn't surprised to find a text from Stiles waiting for him when he woke up. He bit back a smile and opened it.

**Did you like your present? :)**

He looked over at the still wrapped present left on table. He hadn't quite had the nerve to throw it out, which irritated him. Every time he looked at it, he thought of the boy that had given it to him, the obnoxious, wonderful boy who had the courage and heart of someone twice his age, the complete brat who had pushed himself into Derek's life, and he just, he couldn't let his mind go down that path. It'd only end in nastiness.

He didn't answer. He couldn't exactly tell Stiles that he hadn't opened the present he'd given him. So instead he sent back, **It's Boxing Day. Go back to sleep**.

He should have expected that Stiles wouldn't just leave it at that.

Stiles knew Derek's avoidance tactics by now so he didn't hesitate to head over to Derek's in the early afternoon.

Derek didn't look too surprised to see him at his door, just sighed and stepped aside for him to enter the loft.

His suspicion was confirmed when he saw his present to Derek still on the table, completely untouched. His heart dropped but he didn't show his bitter disappointment, instead taking a deep breath and heading into Derek's kitchen.

"You had lunch yet?"

Derek paused in the doorway. "No."

Stiles nodded and pulled the items out of his bag one by one, placing the leftover Christmas food on the counter. He hunted through Derek's cupboards until he found a frying pan and some plates and cutlery.

He didn't speak throughout the process of making grilled cheese sandwiches with turkey, stuffing and bacon. Scott always convinced him to make them every year; he was a _pro_ at making these grilled cheeses.

He handed a plate to Derek and leaned against the counter, sinking his teeth into his own sandwich. He gave himself a mental pat on the back – they really were delicious.

"My mom used to do this," he said quietly after a moment. "Every Christmas. She'd use the leftovers from Christmas dinner to make these sandwiches. I loved them. After...after she passed and we started having dinner at Scott's, his mom always gives me the leftovers to make these. It's tradition, I guess."

Derek gazed at him, considering that before finally murmuring, "It's good."

Stiles grinned and continued eating. They didn't speak anymore throughout lunch and they did the dishes together in silence. Finally, when there was nothing more to stall the time with, Stiles turned to Derek and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"So," he said. "How come you didn't open my present?"

Derek stared at him for a long moment before sighing in resignation; he picked up the present and lifted the tag for Stiles to see.

"What does this mean?"

Stiles shrugged. "It means 'Merry Christmas'. It's kind of traditional when giving Christmas gifts. It's not that hard to wrap your head around, Derek."

Derek's look cut right through his bullshit. "Stiles."

He looked at the _love_ scribbled in his handwriting before meeting Derek's gaze. "It means what it says."

Derek was silent and Stiles' gut twisted in panic.

"That's not why I've done all this," he added quickly. "This whole month...it wasn't to do with how I feel about you. I just wanted you to enjoy Christmas. To not feel bad or guilty or even just alone. And it was _good_, dude. It was good to see you smile and be happy. I just wanted to put that look on your face and I'm glad I did."

Derek just gazed at him, an almost soft expression on his face, and Stiles, just for a moment, let himself hope. Let himself think that maybe, just maybe, Derek might return those feelings. That something might actually happen here.

But then Derek said, very quietly, "You don't love me, Stiles."

The hope vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "I think I know how I feel, dude."

"You're not in love, Stiles. You're seventeen; you're a _child_."

It felt like a punch to the chest, knocking the breath out of him. He stared at the older man, hurt. Then the numb disappointment set in.

He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Derek that he was almost eighteen, he wasn't a kid, he knew how he felt. Wanted to fight and make Derek see that his feelings were genuine.

But at the end of it all, he'd expected this. He always knew that his feelings meant nothing. Always knew that if Derek ever found out, it wouldn't have a happy ending. He expected to be rejected.

So there was nothing left to do but accept it.

He simply nodded, took a deep breath and turned away to shove the clean Tupperware back in his backpack. Derek watched him in silence but stepped aside to let Stiles pass when he moved to leave.

Stiles didn't meet his gaze but he did murmur, "Merry December, Derek."

And then he left.

**27****th**** of December **

He wasn't surprised to see Scott at his door. He figured he would be the first to come find him and openly reprimand him.

He sighed, turned and walked away, knowing the young Alpha would follow. He was surprised to notice that Scott wasn't really giving off any angry or protective waves; mostly he just seemed a mix of irritated, disappointed and, strongest of all, determined.

Derek waited for Scott to say something, ready for the accusations or insults for letting Stiles down the way he did.

Instead, Scott's voice was quiet but strong as he said, "You're not in love, Scott. You're sixteen years old. You're a child."

Derek turned, surprised to hear his own words echoed over a year later by the very person he'd spoken them to.

"Stiles told me what you said and I couldn't help but think your words were very familiar. Because you said them to me, once, remember? Not the exact same – I was younger – and you were a lot angrier with me. You were tied up and had just been tortured by Kate Argent though, so I get the anger. But still the same words."

"Scott..."

"Do you not think I love Allison?"

He rubbed a hand over his face in resignation. "Scott."

"Did I not love her then? Don't I love her now? Answer me, Derek."

"Yes, you loved her. Still love her." Scott and Allison had that epic, soulmates kind of love rarely seen in real life. Even he couldn't deny that.

"I wasn't too young, Derek. And neither is Stiles. I think anyone can see that beyond him being..._Stiles_," he smiled slightly at the thought of his best friend, "There's something about him. Unique, you know? He's not...he's not a kid, Derek. None of us are. That stopped the moment I got bit. So don't brush Stiles off with some bullshit idea that he's too young for love. Because fuck that."

"Scott," Derek started.

Scott was having none of it. "I'm not saying he's deeply in love with you, Derek. But he is pretty much ass over elbows. And I know you have feelings for him too. You're worried about his age, I get that, but he's not a child. He's almost eighteen and you and him...all of us...we've never exactly been normal, have we? Never done things the proper way. So don't...don't mess this up by being an idiot."

"There's nothing to..."

"Promise me," Scott cut him off again. "Promise that whatever you do, you won't be a dick and hurt him."

He swallowed. "I promise."

Scott gave a sharp nod before grinning slightly. "Jeez, you two are such idiots."

Derek opened his mouth to answer but Scott was already walking away, heading out of the loft.

He didn't spend long considering Scott's words or agonizing over his decision. Part of him knew that maybe he should wait until Stiles was eighteen, part of him knew that Scott was right. He made his decision in an instant and was determined to follow it through.

He grabbed the present from the table and left the loft.

The last person he expected to see on the other side of his front door when he opened it was Derek. Scott, maybe, or Lydia, but not Derek.

He blinked, shocked into speechlessness for a long moment before he cleared his throat and tried to look like he hadn't spent the past day moping over Derek's rejection.

"Hey, Sourwolf," he greeted as casually as possible. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry," was all Derek said.

And then he moved forward, cupped Stiles' face and leaned in, pressing their mouths together. Stiles was caught off guard and about to speak so their teeth clashed together at first, making him wince, but after the initial awkwardness, the kiss calmed into something a lot better; relatively chaste but warm and sweet. Stiles slid his arms around Derek, pressing their bodies together as he kissed him back, tasting his lower lip.

Derek walked them forward and kicked the front door shut behind him, his grip tight on Stiles as he deepened the kiss, getting as much as possible; they'd both wanted this for so long that they carried on for as long as they could before Stiles broke away to catch his breath.

"Well," he swallowed. "Merry December me, I guess."

Derek cracked a smile at that, shaking his head before heading into the main room. He sat down and waited until Stiles joined him before opening the present. He was expecting something meaningful – he wasn't sure what – but he was almost tense with anticipation to see what Stiles had given him.

Instead, he looked down at a bright red pair of boxers with Santa hats patterned on them and _**BLOW ME IT'S CHRISTMAS **_written repeatedly around the waistband.

"Stiles..." he stared at the boxers. "What...did..."

"Merry Christmas, Derek," Stiles smirked. "And by the way, I fully intend to do as the boxers say later."

Derek stared at the word _blow_ for a long moment, letting Stiles' implication sink in. Then he swallowed. "Okay."

Stiles just grinned and leaned in, closing the distance between their lips.

* * *

**come say hi on tumblr? dontbefestivemoriarty**


End file.
